


picture us in august afternoons

by sundazed



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: And Then Some, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pls dive in, Slice of Life, Too much fluff, and kissing, canon compliant but like....tidbits of the future?, i dont know how to explain, like really really light, there’s slow dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 23:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17693222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sundazed/pseuds/sundazed
Summary: With the disbandment looming over them, Seongwoo can't wipe away the doubts littering his mind. But Minhyun's there to help him see past the fog and into the rest of their lives—together.





	picture us in august afternoons

**Author's Note:**

> originally written for sirius rises’ round five, prompt #43: "disbandment is right in front of their eyes, seongwoo is sad and worried about it (about their relationship) but minhyun isn't, not a single bit.”
> 
> dear prompter, i may have went a little overboard with the prompt, but i really enjoyed writing this so i hope it doesn’t disappoint! thank you for this and please enjoy! love and thanks to the mods as well <3 
> 
> (p.s. unbeta'd, apologies for any mistakes!)

* * *

**_when I say, "i can see me in your eyes"_ **

**_you say, "i can see you in my bed"_ **

**_that's not just friendship, that's romance too_ **

**_you like music we can dance to_ **

 

* * *

 _ **forty-one years after**_   

 

Of all the things that remained constant in Minhyun’s life, this was one of his favorites: quiet Sunday mornings on their breakfast table, a bowl of steaming rice, all sorts of kimchi (prepared by Minhyun himself), and eggs (sunny side up, yolk still runny) for him to devour, and a good book (mostly prose, some poetry) in his free hand.

Today starts the same way it always does, with him waking up early to prepare breakfast and enjoy the first few solemn minutes of the day. He enjoys the humdrum of his new domestic, unextraordinary life, something he hasn’t had the pleasure of having in all those years of constantly being in the spotlight, so he basks in every single second of it now.

As he waits for his tea (Oolong, a gift from Guanlin) to steep, Minhyun’s eyes land on the bowl across from him and he automatically calls out for his favorite constant in life, “Seongwoo, breakfast’s ready!”

A few beats later, he hears Seongwoo padding down the hallway like he always does, his steps light from not being fully awake yet, before finally stepping into their kitchen. His hair sticks up in all directions, with a few silver ones shining in the morning light filtering through the windows. Seongwoo plants a quick kiss on Minhyun’s cheek and mumbles, “G’morning,” before claiming his seat on the other side of the table.

Instinctively, Minhyun walks the nine steps it takes to get to the coffee maker for Seongwoo, even though he’s well aware that the other can do it himself. It’s one of those tiny actions that have cemented itself in his life, a gesture Minhyun’s grown so accustomed to doing, that if he didn’t do it, it would feel like something’s in disarray.

Besides, he likes doing stuff like this for Seongwoo.

Seongwoo’s heavy eyes flutter open when Minhyun kisses the top of his head. “You forgot to pay the bills again,” Minhyun tells him, more of an observation rather than a reprimand. Seongwoo nods and takes a sip of his coffee instead of answering. He digs into his own bowl of rice and eggs (steamed).

“Forty years later, and you’re still the best,” Seongwoo says, before shoving a piece of radish kimchi into his mouth. “How is this so, so good?”

“Stop. It’s just eggs and rice.” Chuckling, Minhyun puts his phone on shuffle and a soft, familiar song plays through the speakers.

With the music playing in the background, they don’t bother filling the comfortable silence between them. After four decades of being together, small talk just doesn’t seem as necessary as it used to be. So, Minhyun reads, and Seongwu quietly fights the urge to fall right back to sleep.

 

“I remember this song,” Seongwoo says after a while.

 

When Minhyun looks up, a different yet familiar Seongwoo’s smiling at him. The creases around his eyes and his silver strands of hair are gone. But the warmth radiating from Seongwoo’s eyes is still there, it never leaves Minhyun’s skin. _Same and different_.

Seongwoo reaches out for Minhyun, and a hand without a vestige of old age presents itself in front of him, “Do you want to dance?”

Minhyun remembers this song and this moment, the memory etched vividly on the back of his eyelids. The cream-lined walls of their kitchen falls away, and suddenly, they are once again surrounded by a thousand twinkling stars. The hardwood floor morphs into sand, and the inexplicable happiness he felt then breaks over Minhyun again like a rainstorm.

When Minhyun takes Seongwoo’s hand, his skin has no trace of wrinkles and angry veins, too.

He accepts the feeling with open arms and a curious heart.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Minhyun says breathlessly, the same way he did all those many years ago. Seongwoo ignores him, and buries his head into the crook of Minhyun’s neck. “You’ll take any chance you can get to get close to me like this, huh?”

“Just shut up and dance with me, Hwang. Don’t ruin the moment,” Seongwoo whispers, and Minhyun knows it’s the kind that has a smile attached to it.

Seongwoo tucks himself closer into Minhyun as the older places a soothing hand on the nape of Seongwoo’s neck. They dance the same way they always do—hips gently swaying together, eyes closed and hearts wide open. He feels as if he's not just remembering this dance, this song, but he's there--in both moments, simultaneously. As if he were straddling time, right between his legs; as if his life's curling in on itself. Minhyun breathes Seongwoo in, and he smells the same way he always does—clean cotton and coffee, just the way he likes it. Then Minhyun looks up, eyes still closed, and thanks the heavens for moments like this. Because moments like this didn’t come as easy as it does now.

Spending quiet Sunday mornings together like this didn’t come by as often as they had wanted to. Sneaking in one-hour dates on their very few days off was already a modern marvel in itself, their schedules proving to be the nastiest villain in their love story. Frankly, there were times when they unconsciously allowed it to rock their steady ship, when they both were still young and foolish, and certain green monsters have a way of worming their way even through the sturdiest gates.

But with rose-colored glasses and an irrevocable love for each other, they managed to overcome even the highest of waters.

Instead of chasing time, they learned to let it freely run its course. They stopped counting the seconds, and learned to make each second seem to last a lifetime instead. Moments like this don’t just come because of serendipity or fate. Moments like this happen because they both made the choice to stay and love the other wholeheartedly.

“We have to go back,” Minhyun mentions sadly, without making a move of disentangling himself from Seongwoo’s grip.

“Can we stay for one more song?” Seongwoo asks, voice muffled in the fabric of Minhyun’s shirt.

“But we can come back tomorrow. We can always come back tomorrow,” Minhyun comforts. With that, Seongwoo unwraps himself from Minhyun’s torso and smiles at him, satisfied.

The twinkling lights above them disappear, and sunlight floods their kitchen once more. Minhyun looks at Seongwoo, and his prominent laugh lines greet him again. Seongwoo’s warm eyes look back at him, and a new section of Minhyun’s heart balloons from the feeling.

Minhyun finishes up his tea. “Let’s go get some groceries later,” another constant in their anything but boring life.

“Can’t we just crawl back to bed and cuddle the day away?” Seongwoo whines slightly, but the sleep in his voice has completely disappeared.

The music has faded and the illusion has fallen away, but as they stood there, Minhyun could hear the sound of his heart beating.

 

He could hear both their hearts beating to the tune of their life.

 

Minhyun rounds the table and places both arms around Seongwoo, urging him to stand up. Turning Seongwoo to him, Minhyun smiles.

 

“Trust me. You won’t regret a thing.”

 

* * *

_**twelve years after** _

 

“I just wanted to scoop out all the salt in the ocean for you, daddy.”

 

Seongwoo feels a section of his heart balloon upon hearing Byul, remembering how he had always joked about it himself whenever Minhyun wants to go in the ocean. But contrary to the underlying teasing tone in his, Byul says it with so much sincerity in her voice. Minhyun mirrors the smile Seongwoo has on, and kneels right in front of their five-year-old to match her height. “I know, baby. But I wouldn’t want your precious hands getting tired.”

“But you want to go in the water, right?”

“Yes, I want to play with you too, but—“

“Papa said he’d help me!” Byul turns to Seongwoo, eyes brimming with hope and lips curling up to a sweet smile. “Right, papa?”

Seongwoo drops to his knees as well, and scoops her up in one swift move. His back cracks a little ( _damn you, old age_ ), but he refuses to dwell on it. He affirms, “Of course, baby, I’d do anything for you. But you can’t run off like that again, do you understand?”

“Yes, papa, but—“

“What did we say when you want to play in the water?” Minhyun calmly asks her, caressing her cheek to make her look him in the eye.

“That I should ask you first…” Byul buries her face in Seongwoo’s shoulder, a pout evident in her voice. “I’m sorry, daddy. Sorry, papa.”

Between the two of them, Minhyun has always been the more mellow one, the dad who ‘spoils her rotten’ ( _Seongwoo claims)_. Although Seongwoo lets her do and explore just as much, he’s more firm with her, constantly reminding her of the things she should and shouldn’t do.

But in the full year they’ve spent with her, one thing is certain: they’ve both tried their best to fill her life with love.

It was in the eleventh year of their time together that they both knew they were ready to adopt a child.

The first kid they met was her, and she had the most loving brown eyes. Just one look and Seongwoo was certain that of all the things his eyes had seen, the most beautiful, by far, was her.

She was four years old then, and the first time she had to say goodbye to Minhyun and Seongwoo, she latched onto Minhyun’s leg and held onto Seongwu’s hand, as if she knew. As if she had already lived in that moment, and she knew they were meant to be a family.

A few trips to the orphanage made Seongwoo and Minhyun realize falling in love with a child is far more exhilarating than falling in love with each other had been.

The adoption process went without a hitch, but keeping it a secret was a whole other feat in itself. Despite Korea finally being accepting of their kind of love, they knew that there would always be different level of dread with the decision they made.

After years of being under the public eye, open to scrutiny and criticism, both of them have become (almost) vulnerable to anything thrown at them. This comes, however, without neglecting the fact that a good majority of their respective fanbase have shown unreserved support for their relationship. But with Byul coming into the picture, they knew they had to take extra precautions.

And although they both love Seoul, they realized that there are some things a child can’t learn in the city. So, circumstance made the decision for them: they bought a gorgeous home by the ocean—in Jeju, no less—one that has floor-to-ceiling windows, but secluded enough to give them the privacy they need. Morning light floods their abode abundantly, and come dusk, an array of orange, pink, and fiery red (it's different each time) ushers in the star-littered night sky. It's become their little paradise, their second home.

Both their moms had insisted they stay in Busan or Incheon or anywhere that doesn't require a short plane ride away so they could see their granddaughter more often, but it was their dads and older sisters that talked the mothers into letting them have this. As a compromise, Seongwoo and Minhyun promised to visit them whenever they could, or to have them fly over with them to Jeju when they wanted to. 

Granted, they still own an apartment in Gangnam where they spend most of the year because of work, but they’ve since spent most of their days off in Jeju as a family. When it's warm enough, they go out and have picnics on the beach. The first time Byul’s tiny feet touched the sand, Seongwoo remembers her eyes growing wide and wild in curiosity. By the end of the day, she was running after seagulls and had completely fallen in love with the ocean and all the things that come along with it.

Minhyun’s always been the one who encouraged her to play in the water, even though he can’t join her himself because of his allergy, but today, when Byul had run off on her own to the water as they prepared their picnic spread on the sand, it’s Minhyun who frantically runs after her first, blaming himself as she cries in his arms,  _I don’t want you to turn red again, daddy!_

“It’s alright,” Seongwoo rubs his hand on her back and kisses her temple. “We just got a bit scared when you suddenly disappeared is all.”

Minhyun adjusts the bracelet on Byul’s wrist—a little wave charm on an emerald blue string—and whispers, “I’m sorry I can’t play with you, sweetie.”

Still teary-eyed, Byul turns to Minhyun and asks for him to take her. Once she’s safe in her other dad’s arms, she bows her head, “It’s not your fault the ocean hates you even if you love it so much, daddy.”

This earns a laugh from Minhyun and Seongwoo, both amused with the way their daughter speaks so matter-of-factly.

They’re on their trek back to where they’ve laid out their lunch boxes when Byul carefully asks Minhyun to let her down, scurrying away to attack the strawberries with her tiny grubby hands. Seongwoo sees Minhyun's uneasiness, probably still spooked from what happened. Seongwoo offers, "It's not your fault."

"Hmm?" It takes a moment for Minhyun to realize what Seongwoo means, and mutters belatedly, "I wouldn't have forgiven myself."

"It's not your fault, love. You're a great dad."

"Am I?"

"You  _are_ ," Seongwoo replies without hesitation. "I know the past year has been hard for the three of us, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. Ever since Byul came into our lives, I've had more reason to be a better person, you know? And  _you_ , you make me better, too."

"You always know what to say. I love you."

"I love you, too. She's just young and curious. It's in her nature. We handled that pretty well, though, didn't we?" Seongwoo hums, looping an arm through Minhyun’s. "And she loves you! I think she even loves you more than me,” Seongwoo jests. “She’s willing to filter out all the sand for you!”

“She takes after you.” Minhyun laughs lightheartedly, scrunching his nose at Seongwoo. He says, matter-of-factly, “Besides, you’d do that for me, too.”

“I would if I could,” Seongwoo nods, eyes glued to Byul who has now moved on to the sliced kiwi. The image makes Seongwoo’s heart grin.

“I hope she knows I’d do anything for her, too.”

“She knows,” Seongwoo kisses Minhyun to try to rid him of the guilt, and Minhyun takes him in, holding him close. They both smile into the kiss, happiness bubbling inside of them.

From a few feet away, Seongwoo hears Byul chewing loudly. “I want a kiss, too!”

 

 

* * *

 

**_eight years after_ **

 

“Hyung! You may  _not_ kiss the groom!”

 

Jinyoung tears Minhyun away from Seongwoo, who chases after Minhyun’s lips to no avail. Before Seongwoo could protest, Jinyoung’s already dragging Minhyun to the other end, throwing back a quick  _at least, not yet!_ over his shoulder.

“Come on,” Sungwoon tugs at Seongwoo’s arm. “Let’s get you ready.”

 

Their day started early with them travelling to Reynisfjara Beach to watch the sunrise, all eyes aglow as they begin their day-long journey. The black sand beach was deserted when Minhyun, Seongwoo and their guests arrived, with only the spectral fog rolling along the coast welcoming them and the morning sun. 

What followed next was a series of astonishing views of rock formations, larger-than-life mountains, and endless coastal sceneries. Unsurprisingly for Iceland’s typical climate, the sky has rained on them a few times, even slightly drenching them on their way here—atop Dyrhólaey (Minhyun laughs at the way Seongwoo pronounces it) which, according to their organizer, translates, quite literally, to the hill with the hole.

 

The cliff is situated perfectly along Iceland’s southern coast, the black lava seastacks of Reynisdrangar in the east a striking contrast to the Mýrdalsjökull glacier to the north—a feast for eyes in every single angle. 

 

It is, to say the least,  _breathtaking_. 

 

But what made them choose this spot over all the other tremendous locations they were offered stands majestic behind them. Dyrhólaeyjarviti, an old lighthouse with white concrete walls stunningly illuminated by the bright sun above. More than just an eye candy, it serves as a testament of how no matter how rough the seas may have been, Seongwoo and Minhyun always managed to find their way back ashore, back in each other's arms, guided by the light that radiated from the other's heart that was always theirs for the taking. 

 

Travelling around in their jeeps, trekking on muddy terrain, all while lugging around his camera, Seongwoo feels the exhaustion begin to seep into his bones. But as their guests finally settle, and Sungwoon-hyung has finally deemed him ready to wed, relief washes over him.

 

He spots Minhyun through the crowd, and he smiles to himself.  _Full._ Minhyun catches him staring, and they lock eyes. Without fail, a million different scenarios start playing in Seongwoo’s head—past, present,  _future._

 

Every single moment of every single scene of every single chapter lead to  _this._

 

The last couple of days had been magical—Seongwoo knows there’s just no other word for it.

 

They arrived in Iceland three days ago, ahead of everybody, deliberately planning a day for themselves to wander around, retracing their steps and going back to the places they’d been to before. They’ve set the wedding in early August, a few days shy of Minhyun’s birthday, fully aware that they would not be able to witness the Northern Lights in Thingvellir like they had a few years back, when they were still young and so helplessly in love (now they’re old yet still  _so_ helplessly in love).

 

Back then, they had promised they would come back together, but the possibility of getting married  _here_ had not crossed their minds  _yet._

 

Even though choosing Iceland was a spur of the moment kind of thing (the idea hit both of them simultaneously, so naturally, they both thought it was serendipity), it was a decision that didn’t come surprisingly. More than just the Northern Lights, they had fallen in love with the beauty of the country, and the seclusion it gave them. They weren’t Ong Seongwoo and Hwang Minhyun, idols turned celebrity couple. They were simply Seongwoo and Minhyun. No placeholders or commas.

 

Everything just fell into place.

 

Everyone flew in—all the most important people in their lives—and they spent the last two days immersing in the otherworldly beauty Iceland has to offer. From canyons to waterfalls to glaciers, it all felt too surreal. Seongwoo saw everyone’s eyes light up like fireflies in the dark with every new scenery and every new experience—like  _magic._

 

“But when are you getting married?!” Jisung had shouted in the dinner hall last night, everyone else cheering alongside him.

Seongwoo and Minhyun had given them a knowing smile, amused at everyone’s excitement. They instructed everyone to get ready to leave early morning, completely leaving out any details about today’s itinerary. All they told them was to be ready for another adventure, prepare themselves for all kinds of weather.

“I can only tell you that at some point tomorrow, we’re getting married!” Minhyun announces, earning a string of  _woohoos_ ,  _yays_ and  _finallys_.

 

 

And now that the time has finally arrived, Seongwoo’s heart is about to burst.

 

“We are gathered here today for this momentous occasion in the lives of Minhyun and Seongwoo…”

 

The officiant’s voice is drowned out by the sound of Seongwoo’s heart hammering its way out of his chest. He’s not quite sure how many times this clip has played in the silver screens of his mind, so he has a hard time grasping the very concrete concept of it.

 

After eight years of being together and making googly eyes with each other, one would think Seongwoo would get used to being the prime subject of Minhyun’s gaze. But today, like many other days, proves this to be untrue.

 

Because although he has skydived in Dubai (third year anniversary) and faced the harsh rapids of Ranoyapo River in Indonesia (their seventh year), staring into Minhyun’s eyes will always be one of the most exhilarating and terrifying things life has to offer.

 

Minhyun holds both his hands, never tearing his eyes away from Seongwoo. “It’s the little things. It’s how you make me laugh so effortlessly. It’s how you always listen to me, how you listen to my stories, no matter how mundane they are. It’s how you walk into the room with a big smile on your face. It’s how you make my heart jump even after years of being with you.”

 

Minhyun pauses, and Seongwoo realizes they’re both desperately trying to blink back their tears. Squeezing Seongwoo’s hands, Minhyun continues, “I know we got a little lost along the way, but I want you to know that even then, even when we were apart, I thought of you. Life wasn’t miserable, but life was bland without you. And on that day when you came bursting through my door to take care of me—I’ve never told you this—but you made me want to just get up and dance with you. That’s how you make me feel. That’s how you bring sunshine to my life.”

 

Each time Minhyun looks into his eyes, Seongwoo is afraid of the intensity of love that he feels coursing through his veins.

 

“I love you. It’s been eight years, and it was a long and winding road, and I’m still so helplessly in love with you,” Minhyun says, before slipping the silver band they’d both chosen on Seongwoo’s finger.

 

Seongwoo absorbs every single word, lets each one settle in his bones and etch itself on the back of his mind. Minhyun’s lips move one last time, forming a timid  _Seongwoo._

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I got lost in your pretty eyes.” Seongwu winks, inhaling sharply. “You make me so nervous.”

 

Everyone laughs through tears, waiting expectantly for Seongwoo’s vow. He withdraws the speech he’d been trying to write down for weeks from his pocket, unfurling the cream paper in his trembling hands. He inhales deeply, inhales this image of Minhyun with the unbelievable Icelandic landscape as his backdrop, inhales as he spots his father smiling as he holds Seongwoo’s mother in his arms—happiness spilling from her eyes.

 

He decides.

He folds the paper and puts it back in his pocket.

Seongwoo takes one final breath.

“Hwang Minhyun. When you told me that you wanted to get married on top of a cliff and that we’d have to trek the entire day to get here, I actually considered breaking off the engagement. I mean,  _how could you_?!”

 

Minhyun’s laughter does not build gradually, but explodes as soon as Seongwoo’s words hit the detonator. Everyone else laugh with him, an explosion of guffaws and hollers. When the sound settles, Seongwoo searches for Minhyun’s eyes again. And only when he’s found refuge in them does he go on,

“But the excitement I saw in your eyes overcame every ounce of fear that I had, and you showed me how beautiful and spectacular this was going to be. That’s what you always did. You always showed me how much more beautiful life could be if only I had the courage to take the first step forward.” Seongwoo feels his heartbeat slow down, mimicking the rhythm of the serene waves down below. “The last few days have been nothing short of magical. And--” Seongwoo’s eyes round the people gathered around them “--I’m grateful to have spent them with all of you.”

 

Heartwarming smiles bounce back to Seongwoo, tears streaking their faces, too. All around them, bright light floods the expanse of the cliff.  _Beautiful_. 

 

“When I woke up this morning, I knew today’s going to be a good day. And that no matter what happens, I would love you for the rest of my life. You know why? Because the minute I drifted into consciousness, I wanted to see only you. I would go up every single mountain, cross every single ocean, and take every single terrifying step just to be with you. You have seen the best of me and the worst of me, and you still chose to hold my hand like you promised all those many years ago,” Seongwoo chokes out, putting the ring on Minhyun. “I love you.”

 

Everything else is background noise, and all he hears is the of both their hearts beating inside their chests.

 

“...you may now kiss the—“

 

Their lips crash into each other’s, tears streaming down both their faces. But they kiss each other slowly, longingly, like they’d never tasted each other before.

 

The crowd erupts in cheers, but Seongwoo barely hears them, his attention fully snatched by Minhyun.

 

When they stop to catch their breaths, Minhyun stares at him, right at Seongwoo, and the world falls away.

 

* * *

**_five years after_ **

 

It’s maddening to be out here, waiting in front of Minhyun’s door, when Seongwoo isn’t even sure he’ll open up for him. It has been ten unfruitful minutes since he arrived, unable to make himself ring the doorbell, because he’s not sure what he dreads more: Minhyun ignoring him entirely, or Minhyun opening the door for him and letting him in, as if the last several months of them pretending the other doesn’t exist didn’t happen.

Seongwoo doesn’t know why he let himself be here, outside their dorm, when he promised himself he’d stop looking for him, stop wanting to call him, stop wanting to be with him.

But he’s here anyway.

It was a phone call—Sujin. A favor.

Heart still trapped in limbo, Seongwoo immediately panicked at the sound of her trembling voice and barely suppressed sobs. A million different scenarios played through Seongwoo’s mind, all ugly and unhelpful, as she explains as coherently as she could.

And without completely processing the situation, Seongwoo accepted.

[When it comes to Minhyun, he always does.]

“I—I’m sorry to be calling you like this, Seongwoo-ya. Especially now—now that you’ve--uh.”

“Broken up?” Seongwoo finishes for her, the words rolling bitterly off of his tongue.

“Ye-yes.” She sighs, aware of the circumstances that led them there. “And I know you’re busy, but everyone has tried— _I_ tried. But he just—” she pauses again, and Seongwoo knows she has her eyes closed and her head tilted back in frustration (  _like she always does_ ), “—he just wouldn’t let us. And I”—a laugh, a sigh—“I just thought—“

“You thought he’d open up to me? The person who broke his heart?”

“Hey, hey,” Sujin sniffs, probably mustering all the energy she has left. “I know what happened. It was no one’s fault. It’s just—I think he needs you most right now.”

 _Minhyun needs you most right now,_ Seongwoo replays in his head. The idea has become so foreign, Seongwoo could not completely fathom what it means, or if it really means anything.  

He tries not to think too much into it. “He’ll be fine, noona. You’ll be fine too, okay? Call me if you need anything else.”

He tries for the keypad after an eternity of internal conflict, and the device doesn’t protest when he inputs the familiar numbers, ushering him inside with a beep. He tiptoes in and he hears the door  _clunk_ and  _click_ behind him.

Breaking and entering.

Technically,  _this_ isn’t breaking and entering. Jonghyun had given him permission to enter their apartment so Seongwoo could do what he’s asked to do. But as his eyes adjust to the dimly-lit living room, he winces as the memories he’s tried so hard to forget begin to trespass his mind again.

The sink drips and drips from the kitchen. A fire truck passes by.

Everything’s still the same, where they should be. The couch is the same. The cushions are the same. Seongwoo shouldn’t be here, so he feels out of place. He navigates through the hallways quietly, the silence thumping loudly in his ears. He touches the walls, reminds himself that this place is real.  _He’s_ here.

Seongwoo reaches the door, and a mixture of apprehension and anticipation crawls on his skin.

He knocks twice, like he always did, “Minhyun?”

No answer.

He tries turning the doorknob, which is unsurprisingly locked, and taps the door again, “Minhyun, it’s me. I know I shouldn’t be here, but Suj--”

The door flies open, and a pair of bloodshot eyes meet him.

Seongwoo barely stops himself from falling to his knees, but he can’t waver. He can’t waver in front of Minhyun when he’s supposed to be his rock.

So he settles with, “Hi. It’s been a while.”

There are many ways to concoct a recipe for a breakup, and this was one that Seongwoo and Minhyun had to learn the hard way.

After a string of missed dinner dates, forgotten promises, and silent struggles, both of them had decided maybe it’s best if they ended it before anyone got hurt. They’d tried their best to not let anything rattle them, but the world is cruel and their schedules are much crueler, it reached the point where 15-minute dates and short  _good morning_ texts just weren’t enough anymore.

So it ended, but it didn’t end bitterly.

It was done over dinner, and Seongwoo remembers time stalling finally, albeit ironically, for both of them. There wasn’t any shouting or any remotely violent actions involved. No melodramatic lines were thrown, no flaws or faults were pointed out resentfully. Seongwoo even remembers laughing till his lungs gasped for air at one point.

But the time bomb ticked madly in the background, reminding them that if they didn’t end it then, they both wouldn’t survive the explosion.

So it ended, and it ended quietly, with them hugging before walking away.

They ended it to prevent irreversible damage, but Seongwoo still felt the shrapnel pierce into his heart with every step he took—away from him.

 _It was mutual and civil_ , both their companies had reported.

Seongwoo hates that word— _civil_. As if contracts, and not their downtrodden hearts, were involved. He  _wishes_ it were that easy, wishes they’d fallen out of love and ended up hating each other’s guts instead. He wishes he could eject Minhyun out of his mind and out of his heart with the push of a button, wishes his skin would just stop craving for Minhyun’s warmth.

Seongwoo shouldn’t be here, but there’s no other place he’d rather be.

“Seongwoo?”

“Hi, Minhyun.”

“Are you… really?” Minhyun drops the fly swatter he’d been holding, probably expecting an intruder (although, Seongwoo is an intruder, in a sense), before poking Seongwoo’s shoulder. Seongwoo stops himself from smiling. “You are.”

Seongwoo studies him quietly, and even in the dark, he could make out Minhyun’s features, still structurally perfect as ever. But it’s all masked  by a blanket of brokenness Seongwoo wishes he could pull away.

“How are you?” Seongwoo asks despite himself. He needs to start somewhere.

“Why are you here?”

“I-I—I was worried.”

“You were?”

“Just because we’ve broken up, doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You know that, right?”

Minhyun’s eyes dip low, and tears start streaming down his face. “I know. I just—can’t believe you’re here.”

Seongwoo feels like his heart’s being wrung. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine,” Minhyun chokes out, barely keeping himself together as he wipes away the tears that are now incessantly streaking his face.

Taking a step forward, Seongwoo offers himself and opens up his arms. “Min…”

Minhyun waves him off, walking back to his bed. “It’s fine. Okay. I’m not fine. But it’s fine.”

He doesn’t invite Seongwoo to sit with him, so Seongwoo stands awkwardly by the doorway, not quite sure what to do with his hands. He decides to put them in his pockets. “Jonghyun says you haven’t gone out of your room in days.”

Minhyun laments, “It’s just been… hard.”

“I know. But you need to eat. Everyone’s worried about you…”

“I know.”

“Then why do you keep shutting them out? Why won’t you let them take care of you?” Agitation rises in Seongwoo’s chest, even though he knows it shouldn’t. He marches to the bed, settling himself beside Minhyun.

They sit silently in the dark for a while as Minhyun sobs quietly beside Seongwoo. Seongwoo doesn’t bother searching for the light switch because he knows he won’t be able to stand his ground once he sees Minhyun’s brokenness in the light.

Minhyun lies flat on his bed after a while. He doesn’t say anything.

“Why did you open the door for me?”

“Why did you come here?”

Unvexed by the question thrown back at him, Seongwoo turns to Minhyun, angling his head to see Minhyun’s face better. “I already told you. I was worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you. And you mean a lot to me.”

“Present tense?”

“Yes,” comes Seongwoo’s quick reply. Because it is true. Because even then, even when they were apart, Seongwoo craved for him--on the silent car rides, on the beach, when he woke up feeling empty—and he knew: it was Minhyun he longed to be with. “I’m here, Minhyun.”

“Thank you.”

Seongwoo lies down beside him, looking up at the familiar ceiling. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Minhyun forces out a laugh. “I just want to cry.”

Minhyun’s tears spill from the banks then, finally allowing himself to feel his misery. Seoongwoo places a hand on Minhyun’s waist, silently asking him if he wants Seongwoo to hold him. Minhyun gives himself willingly, tucking himself and crying into Seongwoo’s chest.

“It’s okay, Minhyunnie. It’s okay. You’ll be okay.” Seongwoo wraps his arms around Minhyun tighter.

 

“I missed you. I’m sorry I got a little lost.”

 

 

 

* * *

**_one year after_ **

 

Seongwoo is a city boy to his core. He learned how to navigate the subway when he was five. Growing up, he’d always been fascinated by what Incheon had to offer, and so he dug and he dug deep, till he has unearthed every secret of every corner of the place that birthed him. By 15, he knew the streets like they were the hallways and corridors of his own house, a witness and purveyor of his hopes and dreams.

It is only when he and Minhyun got together that city boy learned to appreciate the sea in a way he’s never tried before.

In contrast to Seongwoo’s childhood, Minhyun’s life has always been full of the ocean, rolling hills, and endless platters of freshly caught seafood. It was in Busan where Minhyun first learned how to ride a bike, where he first swam in the beach only to realize he was terribly allergic to seawater. It is where he got his first kiss, and where he first felt the sting of young, unrequited love. It is in Busan where Minhyun learned how to mask the sound of his crying with the sound of the waves crashing to the shore, sand between his toes and an anchor in his chest.

Seongwoo visits all of these places on their first visit to Minhyun’s family home together, their hands tangled and hearts blooming like flowers in spring.

Minhyun brings him out to the beach on their last night there, when the skies are clear, and the stars sparkle brightly, seemingly within an arm’s reach. The smell of a distant bonfire lingers in the perfect July air, and time stalls for the both of them. They exchange stories, most of which they’ve shared with each other already, but they don’t mind the repetition at all; stories told in this setting just seem more nostalgic, more magical. It was like Seongwoo was hearing them for the first time again.

“What are we doing?”

“Slow dancing,” Seongwoo enunciates every word, as if he were talking to a kid. “Like in prom. And in the movies.”

”I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Minhyun says, shaking his head and biting down a smile. “No music?”

“Let’s let the sound of the waves be our music.”

“You’re so cheesy.” 

Seongwoo rests his cheek on Minhyun’s shoulder. “Sing for me then?”

Minhyun hesitates, so Seongwoo thinks they’ll have to settle with the ocean. But in the next moment, Minhyun’s pouring honey into his ears, singing a song they’ve both come to love.

 

_Your embrace was always warm_

_It was my only resting place at the end of a long day_

_You alone are enough for me_

_There is no need for words, because I know it all by your eyes_

 

Seongwoo closes his eyes, letting himself be cradled by Minhyun’s soft, intoxicating voice.

 

_The future cannot be known_

_But each moment spent in your arms_

_I wish it would last forever_

 

_On a day when the breeze feels nice_

_On a day when the sun shines, I'll go to you_

_Just like the day you first came to me_

 

 

_Every day, every moment, let's be together_

 

 

When Minhyun finishes, they fall quiet and continue to sway in each other’s arms. They don’t bother breaking the silence, because it was the kind of silence that they knew they need not fill.

 

* * *

  ** _four days before_**

 

 It was the wine that did it.

 

It was the twinkling fairy lights strewn around the dining room, the music slipping from the speakers, and the fact that he’s surrounded by friends he’s spent the last year and a half with, that threw him over the edge.

They’re in the thick of preparations for year-end shows, and the thoughts—the good, the ugly, the terrifying—that have incessantly flooded his mind the past month are raining over him even more harshly now.

He hears Daehwi instruct everyone to raise their glasses. “To us!” He gleefully says, to which they all collectively groan.

“Are we celebrating the new year or getting married?” Jinyoung narrowly misses Daehwi’s attempt at flicking his forehead, and narrowly saves his glass from permanently staining the pristine tablecloth they’d asked one of the staff to buy for them for the evening. “I have to graduate first, then we’ll talk nuptials,” he winks at Daehwi and the entire table erupts into laughter. Seongwoo laughs too, but the pounding in his head gets stronger. He tries to shake it off. He needs to be here.

This was all Daehwi’s idea—a fake New Year’s Eve they could spend together quietly, away from the noise and safe in the confines of what has been their home for the past year. Miraculously, the company had obliged his request and let them have one free night after what felt like a decade of practice squeezed into a day. Despite the fatigue seeping into his bones, Seongwoo couldn’t say no to this—couldn’t say no to the maknae’s request for them to quickly shower and get dressed for their very own New Year’s party.

Minhyun, who’s sitting across him, lightly kicks Seongwoo’s foot, and they lock eyes. There’s a question in his gaze paired with a slight tilt of his head— _are you okay?_ Seongwoo forces himself to nod and his lips curl up unconvincingly.

Before any questions could be asked, their attention is drawn by Jisung hyung, who clears his throat and raises his glass from the other end of the table. “A toast… to new beginnings and hopefully, more moments like this. To believing that no matter how cruel our schedules may get, we’ll always have these memories to look back to and remember the family we have in each other,” he offers, and his toast is followed soon after by the sound of clinking glasses. Everyone uncharacteristically falls silent and Seongwoo’s vision gets even more hazy as he downs his third glass of wine.  _Really_ , it’s the wine.

“I’m going to miss this.” It’s Sungwoon who finally breaks the silence. “And I know we still have about a month left, really, and we’ll still see each other like we promised…. but I’m going to miss being able to be in one room with all of you.”

Right. It’s the 27th—only four days away. Seongwoo has yet to completely wrap his mind around it, how quickly the months have dissolved into memories and how time is ticking louder than ever.

Truth be told, all of them have been trying to dodge the subject, running away from the elephant in the room that still manages to follow them around all day. But when they’re faced with teary fans every week—trembling from sadness or fear or longing, and searching for comfort or a promise or any form of reassurance, they have no other choice but to tackle it head on.

They have a silent agreement amongst themselves to assure the fans that this isn’t the end—this isn’t where the story closes. Yet when the words escape his mouth, part of Seongwoo knows that he’s also trying to convince himself. Seongwoo feels it whenever they do their group hugs after an event. He feels it every time Jisung hyung fights back tears as he gives them encouragement after each excruciatingly long practice session.

 

This isn’t the end.

This isn’t the end.

This isn’t the end.

 

_This isn’t the end, but things won’t ever be the same either._

 

With the day of the disbandment looming over them now, Seongwoo feels the walls slowly closing in on them, trapping them into a pit of uncertainty.

 

(Seongwoo can keep blaming it on the wine all he wants, but it’s these thoughts that make him want to burst into tears any minute.)

 

“But we’ll be okay, right?” It’s Jihoon who speaks up after. Seongwoo spots Woojin shift in his seat, probably reaching for the older’s hand from under the table. “I know it’s been a rough couple of weeks because of our schedule, but it’s been fun, right? I… I’m sad and scared too, but I honestly couldn’t be happier being here with all of you. And I’m sure that…. that….”

“We’ll be okay.” Woojin finishes for him. “I’ll miss you all too, but we’ll keep in touch, right?”

“Yes, hyungnim!”

Guanlin turns to Jisung, “We’ll even send you off when you go for military duty!”

Jisung tenderly pinches Guanlin’s cheek. “Hey, don’t make promises you can’t keep! But I’ll be waiting for your debut with Seonho, Guanlinie.”

Seongwoo looks around and smiles fondly at the family he’s made in such a short window of time. He spots Minhyun staring at him and it’s his turn to tilt his head.  _We’ll be okay_ , Minhyun mouths at him. And Seongwoo wants to believe it, desperately wants to cling onto the absolution his members are offering him. But it’s the wine, and the sadness, and the unsettling feeling of helplessness, that’s keeping him from believing every single word of it.

So he gets up abruptly, and the rush of blood to his head causes him to lose balance. They all turn their heads toward him, worry written across their faces. “Whoa, whiplash,” his fingers dig into the fabric of his seatmate’s—Daniel’s shoulder, “I’m sorry. I’m fine. I just… I just need some air, maybe. Too much wine.”

“I’ll come with you.” Minhyun suddenly appears beside him, “Don’t worry, guys. We’ll be back.”

 

 

“You should lie down. I’ll get you some med—“

Seongwoo pulls Minhyun’s hand, “Stay.”

Minhyun doesn’t protest and sinks back into the bed. They haven’t had time for themselves the past few days owing to their tight schedule, so Seongwoo tugs him closer, till Minhyun’s lying down beside him.

Seongwoo shuts his eyes, willing the sadness that’s been clouding his mind to disappear entirely. But he just feels even more helpless seeing time whiz by right in front of him and not being able to do anything about it.

“What are you thinking about?”

The last thing Seongwoo wants is to worry Minhyun even more, so instead, he chooses a topic close to his heart. “Remember when we went to Shibuya?”

“Hmm, vaguely. It’s been what, five days?” Minhyun mocks, innocently blinking back at Seongwoo. “I can’t remember things that long ago, Seongwoo-ya.”

“Shut up,” Seongwoo attempts to poke his side, but Minhyun’s quick to take Seongwoo’s hand in his. Minhyun laces their fingers together, staring obviously at Seongwoo’s lips. Seongwoo doesn’t give in, “So, as I was saying—“

Minhyun lands a quick peck on Seongwoo’s lips and, smiling mischievously, he says, “Alright, go on.”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“Please. You could be puking your guts out and you’d still be willing to flirt with me.”

Seongwoo rolls his eyes in an attempt to feign disgust, but his lips betray him and immediately curl up into a smile. He hates the way his heart still stutters every time Minhyun so much as looks as his way, hates the fact that he won't be able to banter with him as often as he wants to in a few days.

“What were you going to say, love?” Minhyun prods, placing an arm over Seongwoo’s waist so they could lie down side-by-side and eye-to-eye.

“Oh yeah. I—I was editing photos last night and I guess I just… realized a few things.”

“Like what?”

 

 _Like_   _I’m going to miss you so much._

 

“That I should really learn Japanese soon. That thing outside the convenience store still haunts me to this day.”

“I’m sorry,” Minhyun chuckles. “That was partly my fault.”

“That was  _all_ your fault for leaving me alone when you knew precisely that my Japanese is as good as a child talking gibberish!”

“Two minutes! I left you for two minutes!” Minhyun defends, voice laced with amusement.

“Okay, touché,” Seongwoo buries his face into his pillow, laughing at the memory. Although he wanted to sink into the ground then, in hindsight, it’s a funny story to tell.

While Minhyun was buying coffee for the both of them, a pair of teenage tourists had suddenly come up to Seongwoo shoving a map to his face and asking for directions. But they were German and had difficulty speaking English as well. Try as he might, he just couldn’t figure out where exactly they wanted to go. They conversed in broken English and Seongwoo apologized, over and over, “Sorry, I don’t think I understand.”

But the teenagers didn’t want to leave him alone. So, there he was—speaking broken English, hearing German  _and_ Japanese, and thinking Korean, all while glaring at Minhyun who was equally losing his mind biting down his lip, trying not to laugh at the mess unfolding in front of him. Seongwoo’s head was spinning (he was jacked up on Sapporo in addition to the language circus going around him) but fuck it, if that wasn’t the best night out he’s had in a while.

“But we can still work on your Japanese together, you know, if you really want to,” Minhyun says, the typical caring Minhyun way. “I have a couple of poetry books downstairs, you can start on those. They’re fairly easy to read.”

Seongwoo can’t help but say, “That is,  _if_ we have the time.”

Minhyun reads him easily, eyebrows knitting together and lips forming a small pout. “We’ll make it work.”

“Easier said than done.” Seongwoo averts his gaze as he regrets saying it as soon as it leaves his mouth. He hates worrying Minhyun, absolutely hates it when Minhyun unnecessarily gets stressed because of him.

So his heart almost cracks when Minhyun lifts Seongwoo’s chin up and a pair of worried eyes meet him. Softly, Minhyun asks, “What are you trying to say?”

“It’s nothing.” Seongwoo shifts his position to break the stare, training his eyes to the ceiling and desperately trying to blink back the tears.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing. It—it’s nothing.” Seongwoo waves his hand dismissively, as if the gesture would erase the thought and the worried look on Minhyun’s face. “Yup, you’re right. We can—we’ll make it work.”

Minhyun closes his eyes before tucking himself between Seongwoo’s shoulder and head. “Tell me. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, you didn’t. It’s nothing. I just—misspoke.” Seongwoo sighs, unable to escape the ditch he’d created himself. He knows there’s no way Minhyun’s going to let this go easily, especially with how the older’s looking at him intently now. And even though Seongwoo’s sure that Minhyun  _knows_ what he’s so worked up about, there’s really no way that the weight’s going to be lifted off his chest unless he doesn’t spit it out.

 

So he does.

 

“When the time comes, what will happen to us?”

It’s obvious that the question rings familiar to Minhyun because he gives Seongwoo the same answer he did all those many months ago in Melbourne, when Seongwoo had been hit with the same suffocating thoughts.

“When the time comes, I’ll hold your hand like this.”

And even though Seongwoo’s heard this answer before, it fills him, albeit momentarily, with the comfort and assurance he’d been craving.

Seongwoo smiles, but he doesn’t stop himself from voicing out the remaining doubt in his head, “But aren’t you worried at all? Not even a little bit? Aren’t you guys set to make a comeback in February? Things would be hectic. And I’ll probably do my own vanishing act once shooting for that drama commences. It’ll be brutal.”

“If you put it that way, I guess it really won't be easy. Especially at the start.” Minhyun draws circles with his thumb over Seongwoo’s hand and it soothes Seongwoo somehow. “But we’ll have days off. And we can spend those together. I can go to you, or you can go to me. Whatever works.”

“But—“

Minhyun looks at him, and Seongwoo feels his determination to drive away the doubts fogging up his mind. He urges, “If you’re bored on set, I’ll always just be a text away. If you need someone to go over your lines with, you have me. And if you wake up in the middle of the night because of a bad dream, you can call me. I’ll always pick up. I know it’s not the same as a hug and a cup of hot chocolate, but I’ll always—“

“Always is a difficult promise to keep, Minhyun.”

Minhyun stares at Seongwoo. It stings, the way he still looks at him so lovingly.

And Seongwoo only realizes that he’s crying when Minhyun reaches for the box of Kleenex behind him and dabs a tissue gently on Seongwoo’s cheeks.

Calmly, Minhyun continues, “I know it is. But I’m telling you all of this anyway. I promise to always look for you and come home to you. Even after a long, winding day. Even when you push me away.”

“I would never.”

“I know,” Minhyun kisses the tip of Seongwoo’s nose and it’s gentle, but it’s the kind that travels all the way to the nerves in Seongwoo’s toes. “I’m saying—just in case.”

“You really have a lot of faith in us, huh?” Seongwoo says, before dipping his head into Minhyun’s chest, inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“You should never, never doubt something no one is sure of.” Minhyun throws a leg over Seongwoo’s, pulling him closer, as he kisses the top of Seongwoo’s head.

Satisfied with the way they’re tangled together, Seongwoo doesn’t move when he hears the familiar line. He mumbles, “Billy Bonka said that. We watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory the other night.”

“Actually, it’s Roald Dahl. But, yes. Willy Wonka. So you weren’t asleep after all?”

“I wasn’t. I just didn’t want to leave the room. I missed you so much.”

Minhyun chuckles, and Seongwoo knows it’s because it’s absurd he misses him when he’s  _right there._ But Minhyun doesn’t tease him about it. Instead, “I missed you too. I’m going to miss moments like this. And I’m not sure what’s ahead of us, but I always picture you and me,  _together_ , in it.”

Seongwoo’s heart stutters at Minhyun’s honesty, and he sinks further into Minhyun’s chest. Seongwu’s eyes slide shut and he murmurs, “We should probably go back out.”

“Yeah, we should. They’re probably eating dessert by now,” Minhyun agrees but doesn’t make a move to disentangle himself from Seongwoo.

“I love you.”

Seongwoo looks up at Minhyun, whose face is now inches from him. He leaves a trail of kisses from his clavicles all the way up Minhyun’s jaw, before finally hovering close to Minhyun’s lips and reveling in the warmth of Minhyun’s breath on his skin. Minhyun reads Seongwoo’s mind and leans in hastily, kissing him languidly on the lips. Seongwoo angles himself to kiss Minhyun proper, placing a gentle hand on his jaw. What Seongwoo gives, Minhyun mirrors, ever-so-willingly.

When they let go, Minhyun chases after him and gives Seongwoo’s bottom lip a few tugs and licks, so they kiss some more.

When they finally disengage, they’re both out of breath, a mess of flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Minhyun whispers, “I love you.” He wraps his arms around Seongwoo, who willing lets himself be scooped up.

 

Then they fall asleep like that, breathless and in each other’s arms, as they drift into the rest of their lives together.

 

**Author's Note:**

> THAT WAS TOO CHEESY 
> 
> pls leave some kudos and comments if this made you smile even just a little bit c: 
> 
> the song quoted in the beginning is 'i'll try anything once' by the strokes (lovely song to slow dance to ;;;) and the one minhyun sings is 'every day, every moment' by paul kim (he sang it a few times: happy together guesting, birthday vlive). both great songs, both full of emotions. give them a listen! 
> 
> writing for these two idiots has been fun, and i cannot even begin to tell you how happy all your warm response (in the past) have made me. onghwang will always be my favorite muses, so I hope this did justice to their beautiful friendship (that I hope really does last an enternity and more). although I hope I still get inspired to write for them in the future, I think this is one of the last times, so thank you so, so much for sticking with me! you all have a piece of my heart.
> 
> let’s talk on twitter (@smittenwithong) or cc (curiouscat.me/smittenwithong)!


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